


Pack Tactics

by barbarosabee



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Attack, Gen, Hurt Arthur Morgan, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 13:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbarosabee/pseuds/barbarosabee
Summary: Wolves can always smell blood, can't they?





	Pack Tactics

**Author's Note:**

> This seriously fekken happened to me yesterday. Spent all night getting new clothes at the trapper, got less than 100 yards from him and was jumped by SIX WOLVES ugh. I really hate the black bone forest area so much.

Arthur never had been a fan of Black Bone Forest. Thought the name weren’t fitting enough; Predator Alley would’ve been a better way to describe it. Always made him uneasy, coming through here to deliver fresh kills to the trapper, but the man paid too well and Arthur had had a run of good luck lately. Lot of pelts to unload.

Arthur was brought out of his thoughts when Calliope tossed her head and skittered sideways from a rattlesnake. The sun had set a while ago, but he was close to the trapper and just wanted to make some cash before calling it a day.

Thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Calliope confirmed it a second later and Arthur was glad he’d kept his rifle across his lap—he got the cougar dead between the eyes. Killed it so fast it still had forward momentum, and the carcass crashed into the small stream. Arthur eyed the prominent ribs, the bare patches of fur and decided it weren’t worth getting more blood on his clothes. Needed a proper bath, but needed _sleep_ first.

Boars squealed away from them as they turned off the path for the trapper’s stall. How the man thought he could attract customers halfway up a hill surrounded by predators. . . confused the hell out of Arthur. But he appreciated the location, meant he didn’t have to haul kills all the way into Strawberry any time he wandered too far north.

  
  


“Good to see you back!”

Arthur gave the man a genuine smile. Always was a nice break, this scraggly Canadian man. Had the most fascinating stories that he never elaborated on but Arthur was always curious to hear.

“Got quite a haul for you today.” Arthur laid the pile of pelts on the table before the trapper.

“Ah, so you do. Fine quality on these.”

Arthur dug around his satchel while the trapper looked over the assortment of pelts. Deer, mostly, with a few beaver and a silver fox Arthur was particularly proud of.

“Hope you make something pretty with these,” as he handed over a tight bundle of feathers. Most of the tiny songbirds had been trampled by Calliope on her excited dash to the shore of Flatiron Lake a few days ago. Arthur mistakenly thought she could be trusted without a lead while he rested under a tree.

“Should do.” The trapper handed over a stack of bills. Arthur nodded and thanked him, was about to turn and leave when a thought occurred to him.

“What was that you were saying about your third wife being the best tracker you’ve ever known?”

 

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

 

Arthur had not intended to stay up an entire night listening to the trapper’s stories. Neither of them had, really, but the trapper had meat to share and Arthur dug a bottle of fine brandy from his satchel and the rest of the night went as expected from there. Weren’t anywhere near _drunk_ , but his eyes stung and his ears were a bit fuzzy and he was just _so damn tired_.

He waved a final goodbye to the trapper and started down the hill. Wouldn’t need to go far to set camp, was a clearing. . . somewhere. Not far. He could manage _not far_.

Pulled himself into the saddle with a little difficulty. Calliope snorted awake but seemed pleased to be going again. He hadn’t done a good job of tiring her out yesterday, not with most if it spent tracking deer through bushes while Calliope was hitched off the road. Hear ears swiveled to take in the forest as they plodded down the hill, towards the road that would take them back to camp eventually. Later in the day. Tomorrow, maybe. _Shit_ , he was tired. Thought he heard dogs in the distance. The day was too young yet to chase off the night’s chill and Arthur shivered.

Calliope figured it out before he did, gave Arthur just enough warning to get his gun up. The sparse trees didn’t do much to hide the pack of a half-dozen wolves. Not enough time to get any kind of strategy—Arthur just started shooting.

Three went down as Calliope danced in a tight circle. Her flank bumped into a rock, threw Arthur’s shot wide and allowed one wolf to get close. He kicked at it. Calliope spun. The wolves circled around behind her. Arthur only clipped its nose and it lunged and he fired, fired again and again and panted in the new silence. Calliope fidgeted. Tossed her head. Shifted her feet but never tried to unseat Arthur. He thumped her neck and gave her a peppermint once his heart had quieted down.

His ears buzzed as he loaded a whole wolf onto Calliope and slung another over his shoulder. He just wanted to set camp, have a brief nap before heading back to the gang. Hadn’t gotten more than a hundred yards from the trapper, might as well sell off these two before he got on his way again. The man paid good money for intact carcasses.

Arthur struggled up the hill. Calliope vocalized her displeasure. Kept trying to nudge Arthur. He pushed her away by the nose, weak.

“Back so soon?”

Arthur huffed a laugh and dumped the wolf’s body at the trapper’s feet. “Lucky I didn’t get far. Six of these bastards just down the hill.” Arthur retrieved the other wolf from Calliope. She bumped into his chest more insistently. Arthur assured her she would get another treat in a moment.

The trapper stepped out from his stall, went to the crest of the hill. “Well I’ll be damned!” He quickly jogged down the hill, called something back to Arthur that he couldn’t make out over his exhaustion. The adrenaline had swept out of him and left him feeling dusty and dry.

Arthur flopped onto a fur in front of the modest fire. Calliope stood behind him, nose bumping his shoulder every time he leaned too far forward. He’d been up all night listening to the trapper’s stories. Too tired to notice the bite to his calf that ruined his brand new half-chaps. Only knew he wanted to _sleep_ and the fire was nice.

“Oh, that don’t look so good.”

Hadn’t noticed the trapper appearing next to him, several bloody furs tossed next to the fire.

“ ‘s just my face.”

The trapper laughed, loud and clear. Didn’t sound at all like a man who’d been up all night talking a near-stranger’s ear off about Dave the Falconer.

“How’s about you lie back and let me take a look, eh?”

Arthur found himself being lowered to the ground, his head laid on something soft that smelled like fresh linen. Past Calliope’s face he could see the light grey of early dawn. Stars disappeared, replaced by bright birds flitting between the pines. Arthur remembered frigid air hitting the skin of his leg and _oh_ , that hurt, that hurt _quite a bit_ —and then he was out.

 

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

“. . . .bad tempered moose across an ice sheet for _four days_ just to eat a square meal.”

“Hunting in these parts is pretty easy.”

“Sure is, sure is. These are good pelts, too.”

Arthur groaned. Unable to place much of anything except the sound of two people talking. Warm. Too warm but he couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes.

“Is that feller okay?”

“Oh, not at all, bit by a wolf. Whole pack came at ‘im yesterday.”

A pause. “Does he. Need help?”

“Well, I was hoping someone would come along. . . .”

And he was out again.

 

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

 

The ground spun out from beneath him. Must’ve made a noise, cuz there was a hand on his forehead and someone hushing him, maybe telling him to save his strength. He ached all over and it was still so damn _hot._ Tried to pry his eyes open but they weren’t cooperating, no part of him was and his head fell back against someone’s chest.

More talking around him. Recognized the voices, maybe, not what they were saying. Heard Calliope nervous somewhere behind him. Moving now, or maybe it was just his head spinning? One eye cracked open, but everything was too bright. Some embarrassing noise escaped his throat. Whoever had their arms locked around him said something reassuring. Arthur knew he was safe enough to release his grip of things, and the world faded around him once more.

  
  


The fever must have him something fierce, because Arthur awoke to Mrs. Adler laying a cold, damp cloth over his forehead.

“Well look who decided to wake up.”

Arthur heard the rustle of another person coming over, hadn’t the strength to look around. Sadie shuffled back and Javier’s concerned smile took up Arthur’s vision instead.

“I thought only John was stupid enough to get attacked by wolves.”

Arthur tried to laugh. It came out as a wheeze. Sadie took the cloth away as Javier helped him to sit up. Finally able to see they were in a hotel room, probably the one in Strawberry.

“We wanted to get back to camp, but it was getting dark,” Sadie offered when she saw his confusion.

“At least John was awake enough to hold on.” Javier held out a canteen. Arthur managed a few sips before feeling exhausted all over again.

  


They loaded Arthur onto Boaz a little before noon.  He grumbled about being allowed to sleep, but was out cold once they left Strawberry.

Came to as they bumped down the hill outside Riggs Station. Arthur wondered if the trapper would be at his stall here, take a little vacation from the wolves. Wondered why Javier and Sadie were the ones to get him.

“Don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but—”

“Your usual rescuers needed a break.”

Arthur couldn’t see Javier’s face, but he could hear the smile.

“Na, they was all just busy.” Sadie nudged her borrowed horse next to Arthur. Still feverish and shaking, he could only just keep his grip on Javier’s gunbelt. “And we was bored.”

Arthur tried to return her smile.

Javier urged Boaz into a canter as the ground levelled out. “What were you doing all the way out here anyways?”

Arthur sighed. “Just tryina get a new coat, was all.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I think I spend too much time at the trapper's.


End file.
